For better or for worse (Hetalia Fanfic)
by ShadowLurker 93
Summary: It was all one step away. The police were all around them, all on the floor and shouting through their mics. But he couldn't hear the muffled voices over the sound of his own heart, and the rush of the wind blowing harshly against his uniform and his jet black hair. His feet seemed to move on his own, nearing the edge. Then he was falling. (QUOTEV )
Kiku quietly walked down the crowded hallways. Voices. There were voices all around him. They were speaking, shouting, all without a care in the world. Their cheerful eyes, their genuine smiles, and just...the happiness in general.

He wished he was a part of the group.

The group where you are still childishly oblivious to the world, and you'd smile at your friends and gossip about the latest news.

His dull brown eyes fixated on the floor as he clutched his binder to his chest. He walked almost robotically, and the voices died down. The laughter left, then the bell rang. An ear piercing screech it seemed to him. Reminding you of the reality that is education, which a lot of modern Americans take for granted. He found himself walking up an isolated hallway, the grey and white walls surrounding him. He walked up the stairs, and he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

Whatever he was doing going up here, he felt that it was important. Very much so, because he felt thrill at being able to change his life so drastically. For better or for worse.

He opened the heavy metal doors with the label 'Employees only.' He stepped in, and he was met with the rush of air. The sky was grey, or brown, because he felt the dirt through the wind. It blew harshly against the smooth porcelain skin of his cheek, the faint sting of the dirt didn't bother him though. He walked closer to the edge. He was on the school roof.

Was this what awaited him all this time? The death? Kiku slipped off his shoes, placing them on the floor beside him. His socks followed after, and the cold surface of the smooth concrete beneath his feet calmed him greatly. He walked to the side of the roof, and dropped his shoes. His sweater vest followed soon after, then his socks, and finally his binder. The windows opened to several classes, and he heard the startled gasps of teachers and students. "Kiku Honda, what on earth are you doing?" His video tech teacher had exclaimed, and students pined their heads through the window. He didn't answer. Instead, he chose to walk to the other edge, where the streets and stop lights were.

He started to hear more shouting and a crowd gathered at the bottom. He heard police start to come. Students filed out of the school, students he knew. There was Feliciano Vargas. A ditzy Italian with a friendly smile. Ludwig Beilshmidt, a German friend of his. Matthew Williams, a very soft spoken teen he got along well with. Then there was Alfred Jones. A friendly teenager on the football team. He had bright baby blue eyes behind thin framed glasses. His light blonde hair with that cute cowlick that refused to go down. He was muscular and fairly popular, but here was a thing. Fact: Kiku is sure Alfred is as straight as a line.

Kiku had a pretty big crush on Alfred. Who wouldn't? He was nice, protective, and smart. He was perfect. His skin wasn't scarred or bruised. Kiku's was. His eyes are a rare type you find in America. Kiku's are a dull brown.

The door opened behind him and immediately Kiku panicked. His head whirled around and he saw the librarian, Antonio Carriedo with a few officers racing towards him. Tears immediately pooled in Kiku's eyes. The wind was still blowing, picking up speed. It whipped at Kiku's hair and dried a few of his tears, it blowed at his slightly baggy white dress shirt.

Kiku let a cry escape past his lips, and right as the hand tried grabbing at him, he jumped. "WAIT!" shouted. But it was too late. He was falling.

Kiku didn't want to jump off in a panic. He wanted to jump off as a relaxed person. Not in a crying mess. You can't always get what you wish for, can you?

As he fell, everything seemed to go in slow motion. He couldn't help but think. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe he had a reason to live. He had his friends, who were pretty genuine with him. Maybe...this just wasn't the right choice.

Screams and cries reached his ears as he fell, and he shut his eyes tightly. He made a mistake. He didn't want to die anymore. He wanted to live. Adopt children. Have a nice boyfriend. Get married. Move to Japan, his home country.

But the floor wasn't what awaited him.

He was suddenly enveloped in warmth, and strong arms caught him. His small, thin figure seemed to be wrapped in a blanket. That's what it felt like to him. A secure blanket. He was set onto the floor. "Everyone get away and give him some space!" Someone ordered harshly. Kiku paused and his breathing hitched. He knew that voice. He opened his eyes, and immediately they met with a pool of baby blue orbs, worry and hurt evident in them. "Oh my gosh...Kiku! What on earth were you thinking? Why did you jump? Huh?! Why?!" But Kiku didn't really listen. His own eyes filled with tears that fell down his cheeks rapidly. "I don't know." He answered. "It happened. And I just don't know anymore." He said, his voice cutting off with his sobs. Alfred hugged him close.

And Kiku let him, his own arms trembling as they clutched at his saviors shirt like a lifeline.

Then Kiku realized, that his life did change. It changed so suddenly. For better or for worse.


End file.
